Hymn of the Breaking Strain
by aptasi
Summary: Somehow, she's still here, and Sara wants to know why.


Summary: She's still there for some reason, and Sara wants to know why.

Standard Disclaimer: I'm just a fanfiction writer. All hail the rightful owners.

Content warning: This fic deals with various and/or undefined forms of mental illness and self destruction. Please proceed at your best discretion. Also there is brief but severe swearing.

* * *

"Why?" She whispered, her throat hoarse, "Why did you bring me back, Carmen, why?"

"I'm worried about you, Sara," Carmen answered, with annoying cloying indirectness. "You haven't left your..."

"Answer me!" Her eyes sank back. "What are you going to do?"

Taking a step forward, Carmen stepped through the doorway to her adversary's room and shook her head, "I'm not going to hurt you, Sara."

"This is new." Sara spat, projecting her voice and calling the words out until they carried into the hall of the safe house dormitory.

"What?" Carmen shrank back, "I never..."

"Then tell me why you took me away, why you broke me out of prison. If it wasn't to punish me then why?"

"Did you think I couldn't tell?" Carmen exclaimed, her voice finally rising to meet Sara's.

Sara's jaw clenched. Her accent always became more pronounced when she was angry. "Tell what?"

Quietly, Carmen closed the door behind her. 'Your heist was harmless." She declared flatly.

Sara blinked, then shrugged. "I nearly flooded..."

"Nearly, but didn't." The master thief interrupted. "I make my heists to be stopped too. I know how to narrowly miss terrible results. A single button shut down procedure, no backup, no perimeter... "

"Do you ever intend." Sara demanded. "To let me finish a sentence?"

"No one was hurt." The master thief exclaimed. "When there's that much property damage, and no one has a scratch on them, someone was watching out. Someone planned it. It wasn't me, I was unconscious. So who was it Sara?"

Flinching away from the loud words, Sara whispered. "The judge says I'm homicidally insane."

"The judge didn't have the whole story." Carmen said, her voice falling in timbre again. "Why didn't you hurt anyone?"

"Why do you think I would?"

"Tell me!"

"Because other people are not the ones I wanted to...!" The exclamation was so strangely pronounced it was barely intelligible. Sara clenched her jaw, cutting off all sound.

Carmen frowned. "You didn't harm me either. You easily could have."

With sharp bitterness Sara laughed. "You are really fucking narcissistic, you know that?"

Carmen frowned.

"It wasn't about you..." Sara swallowed and sat down on her reclining chair. It was the only seat in the room, but she made no mention of or concession to it..

"What is it?"

"No!"

Extending her arm forward, the master thief cajoled. "Sara..."

"Leave me alone!"

"Sara, tell me. Why did you have to do what you did?"

"Because," the not-master thief said, and then she put her face in her hands. "When you are crazy, but you are the best, then it is alright. you are another Boltzmann another Meyer." Against her will, tears came to her eyes. "When you are crazy and you are not the best, then you are worthless."

Carmen first stepped back in surprise, her eyes working fast. As soon as she had processed the information, she moved forward again. "Sara." She said, and this time her voice was sad not angry. "you're really not ok, are you?"

Sara laughed with acid. "I realize this must be difficult to calibrate when one lives your life Carmen, but do I look ok to you?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because," The scientist replied acerbically, "It would have gone like this." She raised her voice into a parody. "Carmen I think there might be something seriously wrong with me. Oh that is nice Sara tell me how is that engine coming along."

"I wouldn't..."

"It wasn't subtle." Sara muttered. "And the most brilliant detective in history did not notice. Really? It just never came into your magnificent brain?"

Conspicuously, the master-thief flinched.

"Well there's your answer. I did it for your damn attention. Are you happy now?"

Carmen swallowed. "Sara, I feel terrible that I didn't..."

The scientist cackled. "You feel terrible. Welcome to my club."

"Let me help you this time." The red-clad thief implored.

"I've had my chance."

"I'm not giving up on..."

"You've only known about this for ten seconds!" Sara snapped.

The master thief shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the record player bullishly rendering one of Shostakovitch's string quartets, oblivious to the argument. "That's true."

Following Carmen's eyes, the scientist declared. "You know anyone would think this was your room."

Carmen's eyes widened.

"Let me guess." Sara muttered. "You still know better than I do because you're sane. That's what they always say. Well Carmen, let me tell you, you are not that sane."

"I don't think sane and insane are the best things to call this."

"And you know the best words too, apparently. What do you want to call it? How about mad? Scientists aren't crazy; they're mad. Then, it is cute." Sara spat. "And funny."

Carmen swallowed. "This isn't funny." She said softly.

"Of course it is." Sara cackled. "Now I can be crazy mad and angry mad at the same time. It's a pun. You love that!"

The master thief shook her head. "Not if you're suffering."

Clipping each word off short, Sara shrugged and sat back. "It's not like it's new or anything."

"Please." Carmen said, "Tell me how I can help."

"Get me some blankets."

"What?"

"You asked what will help." Sara said her accented voice dark. "Blankets will help."

"Soft blankets?" Carmen asked, still confused.

"Heavy blankets. The jail was better stocked than this place."

"Ok." Carmen went to the door. "Should I call someone to stay with you or..."

Sara sighed. "I am not that kind of broken at this moment, Carmen. Go."

* * *

"I brought you the blankets." Carmen said gingerly.

Sara glared at the pile. "Well, at least you didn't skimp." She grabbed one off the top, hefted it, and then spread it across her lap."

Carmen took a breath and then said quickly, "Was that some sort of test to..."

"You are the one who likes to give people tests."

"I also brought you a poem."

Rolling her eyes, Sara declared. "Of _course_ you did. You know if I had been about to do a crazy thing you just wasted time looking up poetry."

"You said that..."

"Ha. I even told the truth. It doesn't make your poetry any less dysfunctional."

"Will you read it?" Carmen offered gently.

Sara glared at the title. "What is this, Kipling? You don't even like Kipling."

"Yes he is a myriad of problems, but believe it or not it's difficult to find a poet that addresses mental health in engineering metaphors. So, just read it."

Sara's eyes cast down at the page, and as she read the poem she began to cry, slowly at first then sobbing. "I hate you..." She whispered.

Carmen nodded.

"Tell me what did you hope to accomplish with this?"

"I thought if your mind was too hurt to hear me," Carmen offered gently. "Poetry speaks to the soul."

"I want a new soul." Sara's voice was flat. "This one is defective."

"You can't mean that."

"Yes I can."

With all of her famed persuasion, Carmen asked. "Let me find you a doctor."

"What if I don't like her?"

"Then we will find you a different one. Tell me anyone you will take help from and I will get you them instead."

Sara looked up. "Even if it is someone you hate?"

Carmen swallowed. "Yes." She said stubbornly.

"I don't believe you."

"I didn't like Kipling, did I?"

Sara laughed. "As you like to say, Carmen, touche. However, I have a condition."

"A condition." Carmen echoed. "A condition to go to someone who will make you well?"

"Yes that. I have that."

"What is it?"

"Steal me something about Rosalind Franklin."

Carmen considered. "Who was involved in the structure of DNA?"

With a bitter laugh, Sara clarified. "Involved, yes she was involved. More than the men who got Nobel prizes for it were involved."

"If you see a doctor, I will steal something of hers." Carmen conceded. "But why?"

"Because Carmen, when they spin my little breakdown into a pretty story for you, I want you to remember. I didn't imagine it. Everything is written for victors. Your history yes, but also your science."


End file.
